Careful What You Wish For 🕯

People like you, who take time out of their day to write long reblogs like this talking about the fic have my heart! 🫶🏻💕 I’m so glad you enjoyed the fic, lovely! 🥰

🎃Lloyd x Reader: Pumpkin carving Drabble🎃

Warnings: knife play, mostly fluff, reader has sensitive ears, hand kink, scent kink, reader being a brat, marking/ hickeys/ biting, implied smut

Nicknames: Pumpkin

A/N: A spooky little treat before the next Monstertober day

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

“How did I let you convince me to do this again, Pumkin?” Lloyd questioned in a huff, he stood in the doorway wearing his tight black turtleneck, which was your favourite, with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his hairy, bulky arms, his vein rippling out of his skin like lightning bolts trailing down to his calloused hands.

“I promised you a reward afterwards.” You giggled passing him a kitchen knife, which he began chucking up and down “Lloyd that’s dangerous.” You warned, he smiled at the concerned look on your face

“I know what I’m doing, Pumpkin.” He threw it up in the air one more time, bumping the handle with his elbow as it fell, catching it with his hand and pointing it towards his pumpkin “You’ve got everything set out so nicely, like a little housewife.” He cooed, pulling you close and placing a kiss on your forehead.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks at his comment. You, a housewife…for him. You liked the idea, you couldn’t deny that; but the way he said, it like his words held so much more meaning behind them. You always loved when he complimented you, it made you feel so special. Nothing else in the world mattered except what Lloyd thought, what Lloyd said—he’d made you completely reliant on him. “L-Let’s get started…That pumpkins yours and this one's mine.” You cursed yourself for stuttering, Lloyd smirked at your brushing his large hand across your forearm before pulling his pumpkin closer to him on the newspaper. You followed suit, picking up your knife and beginning to cut a circle around the stem of the pumpkin—you had much more difficulty than Lloyd as tried to cut through the tough skin of the pumpkin.

“Are you sure you’re allowed to do this?”

“Of course I am! I know how to use a knife, Lloyd. I'm not a child. And then we can make pumpkin bread after this.” You huffed turning away from him and continuing to cut into the pumpkin.

Lloyd grabbed your chin turning you towards him “No, I mean because you’re a pumpkin; so this is murder and cannibalism. I never knew you were so devious, Pumpkin.” You opened your mouth to reply but no words left your mouth, you just stared at him with your mouth hanging open. He let you go and resumed carving his pumpkin, you closed your mouth and returned your own pumpkin, pulling the center out before you began digging out the seeds.

Your gaze drifted over to Lloyd as he held onto the pumpkin with one of his hands, the muscles shifting under his skin as he squeezed the skin of the pumpkin. The golden ring on his pinky finger glimmering in the light catching your attention briefly as you remembered the time he slipped it on to each one of your fingers trying to get it fit “it only fits your thumb, Pumpkin, you’re so tiny compared to me…Don’t worry I'll get you a ring just like this one so we can match.” He did get you a ring to match, it was perfectly tailored to the size of your pinky. Your eyes travelled up his arms, watching as his biceps tensed whilst he used a spoon to scoop out some of the pumpkins innards. You had to look away to stop yourself from drooling, Lloyd knew you were watching. He was taking his time on purpose, squeezing the firm outside of the pumpkin and intermittently letting out a soft grunt to toy with you. He loved to see the way you practically salivated over him—he always knew you adored his hands, his scent, his eyes, his body. He knew The parts you liked about him so he abused your weaknesses just to be able to watch you stumble over your words; just last week he caught you spraying some of his new cologne on one of his hoodies you’d stolen, so he instantly bought more of it. Lloyd broke the silence “I’m all up in this pumpkin's guts. Kinda like I was last night with you-“ You pout grabbing some of the mashed up pumpkin and throwing it at him “Hey! No throwing the pumpkin. God, it smells so bad.” His face contorts into disgust as he wipes it off his black turtleneck grimacing at the texture and wetness as he throws it on to the newspaper-clad counter.

You giggle, letting a devious smile spread across your lips “Then don’t be such a perv, we’re meant to be doing a wholesome activity for once.” You cross your arms and arch an eyebrow at him.

“There’s nothing wholesome about the way you were looking at my hands, Pumpkin, don’t think I didn’t see you.” Your face heats up in embarrassment and without thinking you smear your pumpkin covered hands across his stupid attractive face “Oh that’s it!” Lloyd picked up the knife he’d been using to carve the pumpkin and hovers it underneath your chin, gently gliding the blade against the delicate soft skin of your throat, the juice of the pumpkin on the knife leaving a sticky trail “I’ve played nice for long enough, now it’s time to have fun. You like that idea don’t you, Pumpkin? Your thighs are clenching. I decided to be nice and play along with your desire to carve pumpkins, and you return the favour by being a brat.” He leans down to your ear, his hot breath fanning at the sensitive skin “Good thing I like it when you’re a brat.” He whispers, rubbing the bristles of his moustache against the shell of your ear, relishing in the whine that escapes from your lips as he sucks on your earlobe. He knows it’s sensitive, he’s teasing you. You wipe your hands on the tea towel you’d set out and then rest your now clean hands on his shoulders for support as he continues to attack your sensitive ears. Lloyd moves down from your ear to your neck, licking a stripe from your jaw to clavicle. He settled at your collar bone, suckling at the thin skin and running it through his teeth. You buried your fingers in his cropped hair, fiddling with the styled top till strands of his hair were falling onto his forehead in curls.

You rub your thighs together, relishing in the friction, as he drags the knife down your neck to your torso, pressing harder so you can feel the blade through the crew neck of his that you were wearing. He drew crescents beneath reach of your breast before travelling further down. Lloyd pressed hot opened mouth kisses to your throat as he bunched the sweater at your hips “Only panties? How naughty.” Lloyd purred, sucking a hickey into your neck.

He ran the cool blade of the knife along your thigh, bringing it ever so close to the apex of your hips tracing your folds with the blunt side of the blade before running it back up your torso, across your chest and back to your neck; outlining your collar bones then your trachea and settling just below your jaw. He stared down at you, you swore those eyes could see into the depth of your soul. You followed the slate outer ring that faded into a bright blue—one glance into those eyes made any bad day better. His pink lips curved into a smile and he pulled the knife away from your throat, raising the blade in the air threateningly.

Lloyd stabbed the knife into his pumpkin and then picked you up, your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck. He gave you a quick kiss “We’ll finish carving later, I want my reward now.” He kissed you again, but this time he deepened it; slipping his tongue into your mouth intertwining it with yours before catching your bottom lip with his teeth and tugging at it “What do you say, Pumpkin? Want me to be all up in your guts?”

‘I’d like that.” You titter as he strides with you up the stairs towards the bedroom. Pumpkin carving will have to wait after all.

Tag list: @cevansgurl @bval-1 @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @flamefoxxrecs @sojuxxi @adoreyouusugar @gryffindorqueensworld @aerangi @itwillgetbetter @taramaria

Monstertober Day 2:

My Legacy

Pairing: Orc!Bucky x Captured!Reader

Warnings: Non con→Dub con, Dead dove: Do not eat, insults/degrading language, forced breeding, forced impregnation, drastic size difference, belly bulge, blood mention, virgin!reader, hair pulling, cowgirl→mating press, dacryphilia, dark!bucky, threat of violence, aphrodisiac

Nicknames: Tiny, little one, cum slut

Word count: 2.4 k

Monstertober master list

Master list

Tag list🎀

This has been long awaited, I know everyone loves Orc!Bucky, me too honestly. Enjoy.

A colossal, herculean man loomed over you, he was built from slabs of muscles that shifted under his thick layers of green skin. His bulging forearms, decorated with tribal tattoos, half concealed by a pair of tanned leather bracers, lined with fur; the designs carved into the leather matched his ornate iron pauldrons, slightly covered by the reddish-brown pelt of a direwolf, and the only thing covering his lower half was a loin cloth attached to a metal belt adorned with his tribe’s insignia. His eyes narrowed in a scowl, but despite this you could see his golden eyes, with flecks of amber and a vertical slit for a pupil—reminiscent of a cat's eyes. They were trained on you, hunched between the cart and barrels “How unfortunate Tiny. Should have hid better than that.” His meaniscing tone sends a ripple of goosebumps across your skin, a scream bubbles up to your throat and dies there as he reaches out for you. You scramble away from his enormous juniper hand, the lighter skin of his palm filling your vision before he opts for grabbing you by the waist and pulling you out “Gods above I can smell chu ‘ittle one. You’re terrified out your tiny little brain, but you're still so wet for me. If you play nice, I won’t have to hurt chu.” You consider chomping down on the web of skin connecting his thumb and forefinger, but Orcs are known for their tough skin, you decide not to. You stare up at the monster before you through your long lashes, tears streaming down your cheeks “Good, Tiny human. My true name is too complicated for your kind to understand or pronounce, so you can call me Bucky. I am War chief of this clan of Orcs, it will do you well to listen or I’ll pass you to the others. They ain’t too kind to little tiny girls like chu.” He begins to walk with you, pushing you to his beefy chest like a mother holding a baby close, your hands grab for purchase at the direwolf pelt strung across his shoulders; the feeling of the fur in your hands and the familiar scent brings you solace as he carries you over to a large group of orcs, one with blonde hair turns towards Bucky smiling with his tusks on full display, you cower at the sight—you know exactly what those tusks can do, you’ve watched them tear people like parchment “Steve, I’m going to head back to camp with a small group. You stay here. Kill any survivors, pillage whatever’s left, return by nightfall.” The Orc named Steve nods and replies in a strange serious of grunts, to which Bucky also replies in the same manner. They he’s walking again, he stops infront of an orcish warhorse—specially breed to be taller and stronger than normal horses to with stand the sheer size of the orcs— then he climbs on with you held in one arm

“Where are we going?” You whisper near his ear

“To your new home ‘ittle one.”

The ride back to the camp isn’t a long one, you slept for most of it as your adrenaline finally died down or you’d fallen into a state of shock. At this point you had no idea. When you awoke you’d arrived at what he called ‘your new home’ There were countless Orcs, they barely used any of their troops to conquer your village. The feeling of hopelessness rose in you once again.

“‘ere we are, Pet. Home sweet home.” He got off the horse and handed the reins off to another orc to be taken care of. He spoke to the orc bostriously with enthusiasm, smiling so wide you thought one of his tusks would like your eye out. Then he strode off decisively through the thicket of tents. He was taking you home, to his home. Not yours. He burnt yours down, he murdered your family. You hated the fact that seeing him smile and talking so happily, despite you being unable to understand what he was saying, made you happy. His attitude was contagious.

You approached a tent that was much larger than the others, it was also dyed a faded black compared to the other plain tents. It had two lit torches on each side of the pegs keeping it up and on the tent door was the same insignia that was on his belt, but this was painted in red—the colour of blood which he was so accustomed to spilling. You had to hate him, you needed to hate him.

He pushed aside the cloth entrance revealing a very spacious tent decorated in a sporadic manner with a large table that had a map splayed on its surface, your eyes shot down to all the red markers on it. One was on your village. They had planned this and nobody knew, fresh tears welled up in your eyes and you bit your wobbling lip, but a whimper still slipped. “This is your new home princess,” he wiped the tears from your eyes with one of his thick green fingers “so don’t cry anymore. It’s all gonna be okay. If you listen, everything will be fine. Now,” he placed you on the ground and walked over to a pile of things in the corner. He turned to face you before pulling out a shotel from behind him, but this shotel was the largest one you’d ever seen; the blade was unbelievably sharp, it was obvious that he’d spent hours sharpening, cleaning and customising it. Your legs collapsed beneath you as he pointed the curved blade at you, the point resting below your chin. Tears leaked from your eyes like a flowing river, you let out a whine as he hoovered it so close to your skin that you could feel the coolness of the blade “Move and I’ll cleave your skull in half. Understood?” Your vision shook as you meet his steely glare

“Y-yes.” You blubbered, he removed the blade and pulled out a chair from the long oaken table. The chair was much larger than a normal chair, obviously hand made for orcs by orcs—no scratch that, handmade for him. The chair was even bigger than all the others, it was made for Bucky, it was made for the war chief who towered above even other orcs. He plopped down in it, the twine holding it together creaking under his substantial weight, and opened his legs slightly clapping his massive bejeweled green hands down on his muscular bulging thighs.

“Come ‘ere little one. Sit on my lap.” He commanded, spinning the shotel on its blade on the hard packed dirt next to him. When you sat frozen, on the floor, he raised the blade towards you “I know you ain’t deaf. I don’t like repeatin’ myself.” You pressed your hands either side of your thighs and pushed yourself to your feet, your legs shook as you stumbled over. He extended out a massive green hand, you took it noting how your hand could only wrap around two of his fingers. Your line of sight travelled down to his dick. It was huge. Straining against the thin fabric of his loincloth. Straining so much that you could see all its features; dark green with lighter sections of skin, ribbed, with a thick gold ring pierced through the thin skin just under the head. There was no way he’d fit.

He helped you climb onto him, practically pulling you up by your arm which was dwarfed in his grasp. You straddled his lap, sat right in front of his bulging cock. Once you were in place he undid the opulent belt keeping the loin cloth in place and pulled. With one swift movement the belt and the loin cloth were both removed and thrown to the ground. His member was now on full display; girthy, long and definitely not able to fit inside you. You paled at the sight of it throbbing and leaking “It won’t fit!” You cried, attempting to run. He grabbed your arm just before you fel to the ground and pulled you back in place. You struggled against him, floundering like a fish drowning on land “Please! Anything else! You’re gonna kill me!” His hand clasped around your face as he reached back with his free arm and came back with a hefty glass bottle filled with a shimmering clear liquid.

“Breath, Pet. I ain’t expecting it to fit in you without a little help, little one.” He uncorked it with one hand and finally removed his hand from your mouth, you relished in the woodsy scent. He poured a generous amount on his hand “Take yer clothes off. Or I’ll rip ‘em off.” He ordered sternly, you met his gaze. His cat eye pupils had blown wide, filled with lust and need. You obliged, stripping off your dirty, torn clothes that smelt heavily of smoke. You swallowed your vomit as you recollected the state of your village.

His huge green hand began slathering the liquid on your pussy, it was warm. The heat coming off of the orc had heated it in such a short period of time, your eyes met his cock again. The heat of it was slightly darker green with a bluish cast, his balls were heavy and full. Your mouth was almost watering. You were pulled from you from your blatant ogling from the sting of a finger being inserted inside you. You yelped, grabbing at his thick wrist with your small hands “It hurts!” You yowled, beating at his calloused palm with your fist, he began moving his finger and the pain slowly melted into pleasure. You hummed at the heat filling your belly “Mhmn.”

“You’re a virgin aren’t you little one, there’s blood.” He cooed, slipping another finger. Which your quivering hole gladly took. You nodded slowly, whimpering as he stretched you, scissoring his fingers “Were gonna fix that. The Oil is enchanted, it should help you be able to take me, it’s also an aphrodisiac.” His words swam in your mind becoming almost meaningless as you pushed back on his fingers until you met his rings at the base of his thick, lengthy fingers.

Suddenly he pulled his fingers out, you whimpered at the loss humping his thigh for friction. You needed more. You wanted Bucky in you “Buck. Want you in me.” You mewl, grinding your sensitive bud down on the thick skin of his thigh

“Gladly.” He lifts you as if you weigh nothing and holds you above his dick, smiling coyly at your lopped sided grin and hazy eyes before slamming you down on his fat cock. The pain momentarily breaks your gaze but then the overwhelming feeling of his humongous prick filling your insides. Your hands travel to the bulge in your stomach, running your hands over it. Marvelling at it as he thrusts in and out. The meaty slaps of Bucky bouncing you roughly up and down on his lap filled the tent, more likely than not the sound was spilling outside. You didn’t care, right now you didn’t have the liberty to think much at all with his fat cock muddling up your insides. Your tongue fell dumbly out your mouth as you dribbled mumbling and moaning with every harsh thrust “That’s it, Pet, go dumb on my massive Orc cock. Never gonna want a human after this, they can’t fill you up like an orc. How pathetic. You deserve an Orcs cock to bring you this. Much. Pleasure.” He punctuated his words with his thrusts, bashing your cervix each time. You threw your head back in a silent wail, digging your nails into his large pecs as you relished in the orgasm that wracked your body. Constricted his cock, drawing a deep, primal grunt from his core “Yes! Come! Come as many times as you want pet, soak my cock in your juices my little cockslut. Gonna get you pregnant, gonna paint you fucking tight little slut hole with my seed. Gonna watch you swell with my children. Take it.” He groaned slamming into you with a new found vigour, picking you up as he stood.

You barely even registered him laying you on the bed until he pushed back your knees, resting them near your ears. You thought it impossible but he dick managed to nestle itself even further inside of you. An electric shock ran through your body as you came again, the pleasure being tears to your eyes as his thrust became more erratic, more powerful. His face loomed above yours staring intensely into your eyes “Gonna make you a mother, Tiny. You want to be the mother of my children? You want to grow with my child? You want to birth My Legacy?” He asked, “Answer me.” He demanded pounded into your cunt, his balls smacking against your ass, twitching, as he pushed down on your bent knees.

“Yes! Make me a mommy!” You cried, squeezing around him as he came inside you, he continued to thrust as he shot ropes and ropes of cum into you. Your stomach swelling with the sheer amount of spend shooting from his spasming tip.

“Ah feels so fucking good. Look at you, your body can barely contain my cum.” He chuckled, huffing, sweat glistening on his forehead as he littered your reddened face, ruined with tears and spit with passionate open mouth kisses.

“Felt good, wanna nap.” You yawned, your body tremouring from the overstimulation, your clit puffy and sensitive as his pelvis pressed into you enrolling you completely, blocking out almost all the light in the tent.

A hearty chuckle emerges from him, the sound fills your ears making more slick drip from your cunt onto his cock still buried in your overflowing pussy “Oh, we ain’t done yet, Pet. Gotta make sure you’re nice and pregnant, gonna fuck ya till I make ya look pregnant; so everyone knows who you belong to, that I have claimed you and that they can never touch you. ‘Cause you’re gonna have my babies, I’ll keep you filled and wanton on my cock ‘cause we Orcs mate for life after all, Tiny, and I’ve chosen you to be the bearer of My legacy.”

Tag list: @alina02 @winterslove1917 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @getwellsoontana @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @renster05 @redbloodedgurl @teambarnes72 @shrekwreck @sweetwrathoflilith @cjand10 @bunnyscraft @flamefoxxrecs @addie5587483

Thanatosis 🦋

Part 1 : Holometabolous metamorphosis🦋

thanatosis- commonly known as ‘playing dead’ or tonic immobility, is a protective behaviour of animals and insects in which all voluntary activity is ceased and posture suggesting death is assumed. it occurs when disturbed.

Pairing: soft! Mafia! Biker! Bucky x innocent! victim! reader → dark! Mean! Mafia Biker! Bucky

Warnings: Non con, Stockholm syndrome, victim blaming (reader blames themselves), crying, pleading, abandonment issues, alcohol, name calling, dark!Bucky, mean!Bucky, Beefy!Bucky, innocent!reader, manipulation, abuse, bruises (not the kinky kind), thoughts of suicide, dacryphilia, punching, slapping, mentions of blood, heavy angst, fluff (at one point then it’s downhill from there)

Nicknames: бабочка (butterfly), stupid, ugly, worthless, whore, dumb, crybaby

The relationship depicted is not healthy at all. If you are experiencing a situation similar to this, please contact an abuse hotline, womens shelter or your doctor who can get you help. Stay safe.

༻ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐀𝐬𝐤𝐬 ༺

I am where I belong. My eyes drift open. I’m not on the floor. I’m not in my apartment, my cocoon. Instead I run my hand over fresh, expensive iron coloured sheets, I smell the air. Musky magnolia wood. I tap next to me, the bed is empty. But it’s warm. I swivel my head anxiously, but I’m alone. I plant my hands either side of me and push myself up, the world around me is fuzzy and my head buzzes painfully. I’m not dead. He saved me. He loves me. I need him.

The door clicks open, and in walks Bucky holding a cup of coffee. His sculpted jaw is set in a solemn expression, but his lips pull into a smile when his eyes meet mine “бабочка you're awake.” His voice is hoarse and just above a whisper, he sounds as if he’s been crying. He cautiously steps forward, scanning his eyes over me for any movement. I throw the cover off and practically leap off the bed “please, doll, I won’t hurt you. I should have never come near you whilst I was like that, I become a completely different person.” His reasoning stops as I limp around the bed and attach myself to his leg. He places the coffee down and attempts to remove me, but my grip tightens on his thick calf and my sobs grow louder as I let out incoherent pleads for him to stay. For him to never leave me again, promises that I would be good, I would be better, I would be whatever he needs, that I was stupid, that I was forever his.

We sit there for what feels like forever, on the carpeted floor. He rocks me back and forth gently, trying to console me, trying to stop my pleas. I do stop eventually, when he strokes my hair and holds me in his arms like a small child; whispering sweet nothings to me apologising like a prayer, his salty tears dripping down on to my face joining my snot and tears that leak on to the fresh clothes he’d put me in. He tries to wipe at the damp spot, but I nuzzle further into him, body weak, tiny next to his, shaking like a tree in a hurricane holding on to him for stability “I’m going to be better to you бабочка. You didn’t deserve that, okay? It wasn’t good, it wasn’t what you deserved; you’re precious I need to protect you my beautiful, beautiful fragile little butterfly.” His butterfly…I’ve always been his butterfly he thinks I’m beautiful he wants to protect me, my fresh wings are still unfurling. I’ve been born a new from my cocoon and now my life begins with Bucky. Bucky is good, I belong to Bucky “Are you okay now бабочка?” He asked, his face full of concern as I stared helplessly up at him, my eyes puffy, full of tears and face red nodding slowly. He stoops his neck and kisses me with all the tenderness and passion that was void from last night. The coldness that had seeped into my bones from being abandoned on my glum, dingy bathroom floor began to subside as Bucky’s tongue explored my mouth with his hot tongue. His kisses had always made me breathless, but now his hypnotising effect was doubled. I craved him so intensely.

I grabbed at his grey crew neck with my small hands, rubbing the fabric between my fingers as I pulled him even closer “Bucky.” I mewled, breaking gtg kiss and buryin fly face in the crook of his neck taking in his musky scent.

“I’ll never hurt you again бабочка, I promise you.”

It had been days since I’d first woken up in his bed and now it was an everyday occurance, he’d decided he didn’t want me staying in my apartment anymore, citing the bad memories and how depressing the space was as his reason. The past few days had been the best, he had cuddled with me on the couch continuously—wrapping me in soft blankets, kissing me constantly, always touching me in some way. Always praising me. Always telling me how much he loved me. He had to go out tonight to meet with the members of the gang, he told me not to call it that; he constantly says they’re not gangsters— though the whole of Brooklyn and the people he hangs out with would say otherwise. He wants to protect me, not to scare me…so thoughtful I remark.

The front door slams shut, I hear the sound of Bucky’s keys being tossed into the bowl on the chest of draws near the door. I turn off the TV, slip out of my cocoon of blankets and head for the door to see Bucky, pure adoration in my eyes. He’s kicking off his shoes, he looks up to see me and there is none of the usual warmth in his face. Blood is dripping from his temple, he has a cut across the bridge of his nose and his hair is dark and wet with sweat. His hands are trembling. No they’re thrumming. He’s furious, his breath is ragged like an animal sizing up its prey. His flame is burning brighter, harsher, hotter than ever. The adoration slips away. “бабочка. Come here.” He commands in a growl, I’m frozen staring at him like a deer in headlights. The smell of whiskey and a blend of other alcoholic beverages reaches my noses causing it to rinkle, he’s been drinking again. He promised not to “бабочка! I said come here are you FUCKING DEAF YOU WHORE?” He bellowed as he threw his suit jacket to the wooden floor. I took off down the hall to the bathroom, the only room with a lock. He caught up with me easily, slamming my head into the door as my hands desperately shook the knob trying to get it open. The pain from the impact sent shockwaves of dull pain across my nerves and caused white dots, dripping with colour to blot my vision. The door swung open and Bucky crashed into the floor, I clung to the door. I can lock him in. I pulled the door closed, but his fingers wrapped around it trying to pry it open as I was shutting it. I smashed his fingers in the door frame and he howled in response, using all of his strength—which was much more than mine—to slam the door into the wall. I’d failed, my only chance to get away. My face heated up tears blurring my vision as my lip wobbled pathetically just like my legs. They were jelly below me.

“No Bucky. No.” I cried fighting against his tight grip on my forearm, scratching at his face. He bit down on my finger. I screamed as he pushed me to the ground.

“Bedroom or here Bitch?” He asked lacing his fingers into my hair as I pummelled at his knees “FUCKING ANSWER ME!” Bucky demanded tugging at my hair enough to tear out strands. I yelp and weep in response, digging my nails into his forearm. Clawing at him. Begging for him to let me go “Fine. We’re doing it here.” He huffed releasing my hair and shoving my head into the ground. I was laying half way between the hallway and the bathroom, I tried to crawl away. Raking my nails across the wood, the awful scratching sound drowned by the deafening thump of my blood rushing past my ears. He grabbed my legs, bending them at the knee and pushing them painfully till the ball of my heels dug into my butt. He pressed harder into my bent legs as he draped himself over me, pressing his face to my ear, the beginnings of scruff on his jaw scratching the shell of my ear. “Try to get away and I’ll snap your little legs like chopsticks.” He threatened, spitting in my face as he rose back up, tearing my shirt in half and throwing it. I began to sob as he let me lay there helplessly on the ground, splayed out like a starfish on the beach. He tore my underwear as well, tossing the torn fabric carelessly like a used rag. I choked out painful sobs, as a tangle of cries and pleas ached in my throat trying to crawl out of my open, dribbling mouth. He shoved his fingers inside me roughly, causing a burn to radiate through me. It was so dry down there. He scissored his fingers twice before giving up and spitting on his cock, pumping his hand across his length a few times. That’s when the last sparks of adrenaline kicked in. I kicked him where it hurt, he yowled in agony as my foot connected with his balls. I clumsily got to my feet, pain shooting through my legs with every floundering step. I clung to the wall limping towards the front door. It was so close. I could fly free.

The flame burnt my wings. His fist connected with my temple and I collided with the oak wood, I traced the wood grain with my finger as my thoughts faded away. It’s Hopeless, like me. He turned me over and my unfocused eyes met his intense dark glare, his eyes were verging on black as his blue iris was swallowed by his insatiable black holes of pupils. The punches began. He pounded my stomach ruthlessly, then he threw a jab at my already bruised ribs, the metallic taste of iron rose in my throat and I coughed. Blood and spit smeared on my chin. He moved up to my face, slapping it over and over with the front and back of his hand—at least he isn’t wearing rings today— is the only thing that came to mind as I wordlessly let him hit, slap and scream. He soon got bored of it, the only thing that entertained him was the silent tears that streaked down my cheeks. He lapped at them like an animal; the heat of his tongue stinging my cheeks that he’d just finished slapping. I am where I belong. I am where I belong. IAMWHEREIBELONG. I try to reassure myself, the chant in my head almost overpowered the sound of his grunts and groans as he entered me. I broke my silence letting out a high pitched wail as he sheathed himself fully inside. I still couldn’t move. My body was frozen in place, my limbs felt as if they were pinned down by sandbags as I futilely tried to lift them. He continued his thrusts “Scream for me бабочка. Cry for me бабочка. You look so pretty when you cry, my little crybaby.” He chuckled as he cooed and ran his hand across my tear stained cheek. They way he said it sounded as if he was praising me, as if he wasn’t raping me in the hallway. As if my blood wasn’t the only thing making him slick enough to thrust. As if he wasn’t burning me. He promised he wouldn’t do this again. But the cycle repeats again.

Maybe I deserve this. He cares for you. My thoughts are disturbed by a distant voice. He loves you so much, this is what love looks like. He loves our wings, he burns us so beautifully. We can’t survive without him. We need Bucky.

His moans disturb my thoughts, he’s close I feel his cock twitch inside me. I let out a stifled sob “please stop.” My begging came out in a voice so small that it could be confused with the blowing of this wind, but he heard me. How could he not? He’s been staring intently at my face waiting for me to say something, anything, whilst he splits me open. His lips twitch into a smile as he picks up the pace earning a sob from my lips. His nails dig into the scabs from before, tearing them open causing blood to leak down my sides. I begin to regain feeling and the pain is atrocious. The white hot pain from where we are connected makes me try to reach out and grab him, pins and needles stab at the muscles in my arms as I begin to flail. I want to die. The pain is excruciating. Every part of my brain screams at me to get away from him. Stupid little moth. I curse. You flew too close to the flame and now look at you, pinned beneath him being fucked like a rag doll. Stupid, ugly, worthless little moth.

Maybe this is death, this is what death feels like. Painful until it’s not. Full of sadness until it’s not. Until it’s nothing but a dark hellscape to replace this hellscape. If I am dying I want it to be now, before he cums in me, before his warmth fills me. I want to die. I want to be an insignificant, little moth living my days chasing the brightest lamp; until I can curl up on some shitty windowsill and die, body stiff and useless—thrown in the trash or out a window. Or maybe this isn’t death, maybe I’m already dead and this is limbo, my own personal train platform before I get my ticket to heaven or hell. Maybe metamorphosis really did turn my fucking brain to soup, idiotic moth.

Give in to him. The pain will go away if you give in. The voice calls again, but this time I listen, closing my aching, heavy eyelids and the world around me fades.

And now I am where I belong. I thought I had completed metamorphosis before, how naive I was. As I sit upon his lap, head empty aside from the thought of Bucky, as he absent mindedly thrusts himself into me during his meeting. I suck at his neck, soaking in his scent. Babbling his name, moaning. Now my brain is soup seasoned by thoughts of him. Only him. I’m not dying, my life has only just started. He freed me from my cocoon because he loves me, he loves my wings, I’m his pretty moth. The cycle will repeat again, but for now I know that I am where I belong, with Bucky. I am his play thing, everything he does shows me he loves me. I’m just stupid, I need him to protect me. His flame burns me so sweetly. Without him I’ll die, he keeps me warm. The bruises hurt to remind me to be good, that he knows what’s best for me because I am where I belong.

In the sequel, the demon is definitely going to be her saviour. I think Bucky and Steve deserve some pay back for what they did to her, because it was honestly awful. I’m glad you enjoyed it though and If you want to find out who the mystery demon is you can now in ‘Careful what your wish for’ 🫶🏻💕

Monstertober Day 7:

Shrine built of lies

Pairing: Occultist!Stucky x Victim!/captured!Reader

Warnings: Non con!!!, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Death, reader is a sacrifice, knife play?, mentions of blood, public sex, voyeurism, humiliation, implied cult, mystery demon, choking, blood kink, Dark!Stucky, p in v, oral (male receiving) , spitting in readers mouth, dacryphilia, manipulation, betrayal of trust

Nicknames: Doll, Dove

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: Who do you guys think the mysterious demon is? It’ll be revealed tomorrow 😏

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

From behind your eyelids you can feel a blaring light on your face, your body is uncomfortably warm; sweat rolling down your temple, your clothes damp—sticking to your body almost as if it was a summer afternoon, but it was October. Your mouth feels as if it’s stuffed with cotton wool—you move your tongue around and swallow to generate saliva, but a painful ache radiates in your throat as you do. There’s a mass of indistinct mumbling, so intune that it’s like the thrumming of a hive of bees. You keep your eyes closed, moving your hand across the cool stone feeling a smooth, waxy residue as you soak up the coolness. You don’t remember falling asleep and you definitely weren’t in your house, you think you must have fallen asleep during your lunch break.

Sluggishly you open your heavy eyelids, squinting as the light dominates your vision. Slowly you adjust, opening your eyes fully and you let your eyes wander around you. You’re surrounded by people in black robes, they’re hanging over you; they’re black hoods covering their face as they chant. You’re surrounded by heaps of long, white pillar candles, the hot wax dripping onto the stone slab you were laid on. You try to move your arm but the jangle of a chain pauses your movements, the copper scent of your own blood reaches your nose; your wrists are rubbed raw from you moving in your sleep. The people stop chanting and begin to shuffle away from you, moving as if they are all sewed together—so synchronised that it’s horrifying. As they move away you can see more of your surroundings. Intricately carved, Chalky, white pillars decorated with crooked crosses and dripping taper candles. You were in a cathedral, facing the massive wooden doors. The people at your feet began to part, allowing you to see two men approaching briskly. Their black robes more ornate than the others; decorated with silver and red embroidery, jewels and rosaries. At the bottom of the altar they split, one going to your left, the other going to your right. They pushback their hoods allowing you to see their faces, your eyes go wide.

“Hiya, Doll.” Bucky’s familiar smooth Brooklyn accent reaches your ears, and even though you’re chained to an altar, in clothes that are not your own and he and Steve are more than likely responsible. Your face burns and you begin to tingle, your hole fluttering in response to his voice.

“Did you have a nice nap, Dove? You made our coffees just how we like them, you were so preoccupied that you didn’t even notice Buck slipping something into your own drink.”

They were responsible.

You knew they were, but hearing Steve confess made the betrayal sting just a bit more. As if they were twisting the knives they’d both stabbed in your back. You had made these two coffee everyday for almost two months straight, you got to know about their childhoods; how Bucky used to protect Steve when he was scrawny and used to get into street fights, you learnt they joined the military together and now they lived together. You trusted them. They were the favourite part of your shift and now they've betrayed you. The guilt took the form of a lump in your throat as tears brimmed your eyes. You thought they liked you, you thought they were flirting with you—that they wanted you to be a part of their lives. Tears rolled down your burning cheeks “Don’t cry, Doll, you’re safe. You’re with us Steve and Bucky, history professor and personal trainer. That’s the lie we told you wasn’t it? Or was that the last one?”

“Aw Buck, look at her. Her whole world’s fallin’ apart. Be gentle with her, or don’t it’ll be more fun if you’re not.” This Steve was completely different from the bashful, kind man who frequented the coffee shop you worked at. They both were, they were completely different, the dichotomy was terrifying. The fact they had both been so deceitful and created completely alternate personalities just to be able to kidnap and kill you for some freaky cult made the anguish inside you boil into indignation.

“What the fuck is going on!?” You screeched the venom left from their treachery laced in your words.

Bucky slaps you harshly across the face “Don’t use that type of language. Doll. It’s not ladylike, and it’s especially inappropriate in this place of worship. This is a sacred place for the Holy Army of Hydra. We didn’t lie completely, after all we were in the army and now we’re in a different kind of army.”

One of the cloaked followers breaks from the line and scuttles over to Steve, whispering into his ear “Bucky, it’s almost time. We need to start the ceremony soon, or it’ll be too late.”

“What ceremony?”

“That's why you’re here, Doll, you’re our virgin sacrifice that we’re going to corrupt and then offer to our Lord.” Your mouth hung open as you stared at him wide eyed in disbelief. Bucky stroked his rough knuckles against your soft cheek as he shushed you “Shhh, there’s no need to be scared, Doll. You’re gonna be helping us and you’ll feel so much pleasure before we end your pathetic, meaningless little life. All you did with your life was make coffees for minimum wage, you won’t miss livin’ much.” His honeyed words only made your eyes leak more, he gave you a twisted smile as you began to sniffle your tears turning into full on sobs “Keep going you're makin me harder. I love it when they cry.”

“You’re so pretty when you cry, little Dove. I just wanna hit you more. Maybe strangle you, watch you choke on your own congealed spit and tears.” You shied away from his touch as he reached for your neck, but you couldn’t go far thanks to your restraints “Just one of my hands fits around your entire neck” he gave a little squeeze, smirking as you coughed and then he flashed the warm smile he gave you when he first entered the coffee shop two month prior. The smile that made you instantly fall in love with him, the smile you saw in your dream when you imagined your future with them both. He gave you that smile and tightened his grip, they both laughed as you flailed your arms about—trying to reach him to get him to stop, as you began to choke feeling all the oxygen quickly drain from your lungs. You were gasping for air like a fish out of water and then he let go “Breathe. You’re gonna need it, Dove.”

“And Now loyal followers! We will begin the ritual, close the circle around us. Don’t let go of each other's hands or you’ll make our Lord angry, so no matter what you must hold hands and not break the chant. Begin.”

Bucky ran his hand across the smooth surface of the altar as strode to where your feet were. He climbed on to it, using his strength to bend your legs at the knee, even despite your resistance, and positioned himself between your legs. The white chemise bunch at your hips leaving your bare pussy on display for all to see. “You’re dripping for us, Doll. Do you like being watched? Do you like being captured and held against your will? Does the prospect of being released from the painful existence of this mortal coil excite you?” You furiously shook your head, biting on your lip to suppress a whimper as he ran a hot finger through your folds “Your body is honest, why aren’t you?” He held out his slick covered fingers to Steve and he gladly took them into his mouth.

“So tasty, Dove.” He praised, turning your head on its side to face him “Open your mouth, suck me off. No teeth.” Hesitantly you opened your mouth, Steve slapped his dick against your cheek leaving sticky precum on your in it’s wake before shoving his full length down your throat. You gaged around him, making your throat restrict around him; you could feel every single vein on his shaft and you felt it twitch as you gagged again. Steve groaned in response, taking a handful of your hair as leverage as he abused your throat.

The pain in your jaw was overridden by the blistering ache of Bucky’s thick dick splitting you open. You choked as you tried to scream, digging your nails into Steve’s thigh till you drew blood. The action only made him quicken his thrusts.

“Fuckkk. She feels like silk, Stevie”

Steve swiftly pulled his member out of your mouth and walked over to the end of the altar behind Bucky, his throbbing, wet dick bobbing against his pelvis as he walked. “Change position, I want to feel you around me.” Steve orders, the dominance in his words making the man tearing you apart bite his lip. He complied, shifting his position of being crouched on his knees, to him placing one hand next to your head and using the other to drag your legs around his hips; so he could still thrust into you whilst presenting himself to the approaching blonde. Steve crawled behind him kneeling down, he spat on his fingers and smeared it on Bucky’s clenching rosebud, giving Bucky the care and gentleness that the brunette had skipped over before he shoved himself inside you. “That’s it, open up for me Buck. You’re always so tight when I fuck whilst you’re getting your cock squeezed.” Bucky choked out a moan as Steve scissored his fingers, his thrusts stopped momentarily when Steve slipped inside.

His fist next to your head pounded into the hard stone of the altar as he let out a low moan “God, Steve…F-feels great. She’s really squeezing now, do you like watching Steve fuck me, you little pervert?” His tittering was cut short as Steve began to thrust, making his hips involuntarily move in tandem. The chant of the cultist faded to white noise as pain eventually became pleasure. Bucky’s thrust became less brutal and more loving as Steve thrusted into him slowly and rhythmically, his hands caressing Bucky’s body over the robe. A pleasurable heat swept through you, your clit tingling as Bucky puffed warm breathes down onto you “Get lost in the pleasure, it’s not so bad after all is it.”

“I-I h-hate you.” You whined as the head of Bucky’s cock nudge against the sweet spot inside you. Your mouth opened in a silent wail and Bucky spat into your open mouth.

“Swallow my spit. Be- ah Be grateful.” He scowled at you as he waited expectantly, you did as he said swallowing down his spit “Such a good Doll.” He cooed, his praise made you keen and tighten. Bucky slammed into you brutally, chuckling at your yelp. You were so embarrassed, but God if it didn’t feel good. You had completely forgotten about the circle of chanting people surrounding you. The only thing that existed right now was Bucky, Steve and the pleasure they were drawing from you.

“cummming! Gonna cum!” You exclaimed feeling the heated tingle in your lower belly becoming unbearable.

“Cum. Do it. Make Buck cum, so he can make me cum.” Steve’s deep commanding voice was the final push you needed for your eyes to roll back into your head and your pussy to constrict around Bucky making him cum with a whimpered fuck, pouring so much of his hot cum into you that it began to leak from adding to the puddle of your juices below your hips. Steve wasn’t far behind; forcing Bucky back into his hips with such force you thought he’d dislocate his hip as he came.

Your vision slowly returned, and just as you were no longer seeing only white, from seemingly nowhere Bucky pulled out a highly decorated, sharp dagger and carved a heart into your chest. You yanked at your restraints screaming like a banshee as the knife cut through your flesh, the agony only intensified when Bucky dipped his head and sucked at the fresh wound. He pulled away, licking the blood from his lips, as if it were simply red wine. Steve leaned over towards Bucky, capturing his blood stained lips in a passionate kiss. Moaning as the metallic taste of your blood entered his mouth, his scar littered hands take hold of the dark fabric of Bucky’s robe pulling him closer so he can devour Bucky’s lips; his tongue searching for traces of your blood whilst entangled with Bucky’s. Steve breaks the kiss, leaving Buck a panting mess on top of you, and he dips his head down to the incision Bucky made over your heart sucking blood from the leaking wound like a starved animal making you scream as he pulls at the damaged skin with his teeth. Bucky cards his fingers through Steve’s golden hair as he feasts “That’s it Stevie drink your fill, she tastes so delectable doesn’t she?” Steve hums in response sending vibrations through the throbbing cut making you squeal “You need to stop so she doesn’t pass out before the ritual is complete.” He tries to remove Steve but he growls at Bucky giving him a dark, animalistic scowl as he digs his nails into the skin of your arm “Punk. I said let go.” Bucky yanks his hair making Steve stop and come up from your chest, his face smeared with your blood.

“I’m hungry, Buck. Her blood is so fucking good. I’m hard again.” He mumbles, taking his hard cock into his hand and pumping it.

Bucky slips off the altar and pulls Steve close, running his tongue across Steve’s bloodied cheek and then starts sucking your blood out of his beard; whilst rubbing the pad of his thumb across the slit of Steve’s dick. “They’ll be time to feast on her more later…and take care of other things, but right now we need to complete the ritual. Practice patience, like the Lord commands.” They parted ways again, both returning to their respective places—Bucky on your left, Steve on your right. They both took hold of the dagger, raising it high so the warm light of the candles cast fragments of light around the cathedral

“Please! No! Please!” You cry, whimpering as you try to curl your body away from the path of the knife.

“May our Lord receive our offering.” They both chant, plunge the knife into your throat. Steve immediately lets go, but Bucky pulls out the knife and makes a slit horizontally across your neck. Blood spurts in streams from your neck, like an elegant fountain in a town plaza. The men chanting raise their heads and push back their hoods—moving in unison. They all collect some of your blood onto their fingers and draw a symbol on their foreheads “May our lord receive our offering.” They drone simultaneously. A cold rush of air blows through the cathedral, all the candles blow out leaving them in utter darkness.

“James. What’s going on?” Steve’s voice quivers as he asks, turning his face towards Bucky to try and look into his eyes from comfort. It was impossible to see.

“I don’t know. Steven. None of this shit is meant to be real.” He spat, nerves sending a wave of goosebumps across his skin. His hand sought for Steve’s, entwining his fingers with his for some security. He knew Steve was going to be pissed at him, he thought it was all real after all. It was meant to be fake and only Bucky was meant to know that.

Steve opened his mouth to speak but a booming voice began “Your Lord has arrived. I thank you for the gifts, but I think I want a few more. Maybe all of your souls will suffice.”

Tag list: @phildunphyisadilf @alina02 @winterslove1917 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @getwellsoontana @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @renster05 @redbloodedgurl @shrekwreck @sweetwrathoflilith @cjand10 @flamefoxxrecs @addie5587483 @little-bunny0523 @sojuxxi @adoreyouusugar @teambarnes72 @wintasssoldier @gryffindorqueensworld @aerangi @itwillgetbetter @cevansgurl @bval-1 @taramaria @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @anniellacinamon

Nia, I saw your latest mail ask thing, and I wanted to say, isn’t that, like, bullying, it does not sound very nice of her to say… your work is like amazing, and please don’t stop writing because of it 😞

Lovely, no need to worry! Nothing and no one can stop me from writing! It’s very kind of you to check in on me though. I did think it was quite rude, but I’m sure they were just having a bad day, so I wouldn’t hold it against them.☺️ I’m glad you enjoy my writing, as I said no need to worry I won’t be stopping any time soon! I have a fic coming out in like a few hours 🤭

🍁🍪 Ransom Drysdale x Reader: Cookies Drabble 🍪🍁

Warnings: cunnilingus, tooth rotting fluff, baking with Ransom, undertones of power imbalance, Ransom is a bit of a douche, innocent!reader, implied smut

Nicknames: Puppy, Pup, dumb (lightheartedly)

A/N: This is kind of a Drabble/continuation of ‘Never stop chasing me’ as it has the exact same dynamic, but you don’t need to read it to understand what’s going on. Can you tell I adore this asshole so much, I just want to squeeze him 🤗 He gives me cuteness aggression Istg.

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭🎀 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

Everything was ready, you looked down at your list one more time to confirm “Flour, baking soda, canned pumpkin, eggs, sugar, festive cookie cutters… and the rest. It’s all here!” You could hardly contain your excitement as you hopped onto the counter, swinging your legs back and forth, a wide smile spread across your face as you hummed along to the songs of the halloween playlist you’d put on. It was perfect, you just needed one more thing.

From the kitchen you heard the jangle of keys and the front door slamming shut. Bingo! Ransom was home. “Puppy! Where are you?”

“In the kitchen!” You call in a singsong voice, the kicking of your legs growing faster as Ransom approached.

You jumped off the counter bounding towards Ransom, squeezing him tightly in a bear hug. You took a deep breath in allowing his familiar, warm vanilla scent to fill your lungs “What’s all of this?” He questioned in a suspicious tone, raising an eyebrow at the neatly ordered spices and assortment of baking ingredients.

“We’re gonna make halloween biscuits!” You exclaimed, your bare feet pattering on the kitchen tiles below you. As you squeezed him tighter.

“We? Do you mean You’re gonna make them?” He asked dryly.

“No, I mean we’re gonna make them together, Ransom.” Your dug you hands into the thick fabric of his sweater, looking up at him and jutting you lower lip out in a pout and putting on your best pair of puppy eyes “Pleaseeee” You whined, rubbing your face into his chest “For me, Ransom, I wanna make cookies with you.” You could see the conflict waging behind his eyes, Ransom bit down on his lip, closed his eyes and exhaled deeply through his nose.

“Fine. We’ll make cookies together. But you owe me.”

“Owe you what?” You tilted your head to the side curiously, sloping your head upwards to look into his eyes—the white of his sweater made them look almost grey. Ransom's heart squeezed at the innocence in your gaze as you asked him, he adored that about you—the fact that it bordered on naïvety and made you wordlessly follow anything he said like it was gospel.

“I haven’t decided yet,” His gaze travelled down to your bare thighs, he swallowed thickly, he knew you were only wearing panties; it was what you usually did whenever you wore any of Ransoms clothes, because they were so big on you, and it drove him crazy every single time. You always did things unknowingly that made him feral and he had to force himself to keep himself under control “but I have some ideas.” He smirked, bringing a hand up to stroke your hair—giving you two head pats and watching as all your thoughts behind your eyes faded as soon as he touched you. “So…Cookies?” His questioning brought you back to your senses. You released him, turning away from him shyly; embarrassed by the effect his touch had on you. The beast inside of him was aching to be released as he watched you fidget, he had to subtly rearrange himself to prevent you from seeing how hard he was. He walked over to the sink, thoroughly washing his hands.

“I-I have everything set out and measured, all we need to do is put it all together, cut out the cookies, put them on a baking tray and leave them in the oven. I didn’t want you to have to do too much, since I knew you’d be tired.” You wrung your hands together as you explained yourself, busying yourself with fiddling with the strings of your apron.

You could feel Ransom standing behind you before he rested his chin on your head. “How thoughtful of you, Puppy.” He placed a kiss on the top of your head before picking up the mixing bowl “So what’s first?”

“We need to cream the butter and sugar together.” You earned a deep laugh from Ransom “What?”

“Cream.” He repeated, tittering to himself. You gave him a playful slap on his forearm, turning away from him and putting the butter and sugar into the bowl he was holding.

“You’re on whisking duty.” You huffed grabbing the smaller bowl and combining the variety of spices, plain flour and bicarbonate of soda together “You’re gonna be whisking for about 3 minutes, until it’s a nice pale colour” Ransom scooted next to you rolling up his sleeves before he began to whisk vigorously, grunting in the process. You felt your mind wandering as you folded the dry ingredients together, swirling them gently as you let your gaze shift over to Ransom. Biting your lip at the extreme focus he was in whilst whisking.

“That’s looking pretty pale to me. I think I’m done, what do you think?” He questioned, looking down at you. He set down the bowl “Caught you staring.”

“I was looking at the bowl!” You defended, unable to meet his accusing gaze.

“Sure you were. Come on, you're the leader, do we just combine both of these?”

“Yep! You know for someone who’s never cooked or baked you’re pretty good at this!”

“Don’t be cheeky, Puppy. I’ve baked before, just not often. Here gimme that.” He took the small bowl of dry ingredients and dumped it all in the bowl he’d been mixing.

“No! we were meant to fold it in slowly!”

“It’ll be fineeee. We can still fold it and now it’ll be quicker.” He passed the wooden spoon over to you “Your turn, since you’re the expert.” He said in a honeyed tone.

After bumping heads with Ransom a bit more about his odd approach to baking you finally had all the cookies cut out in the shapes of pumpkins and bats and on a baking tray. You slid it into the oven and closed the door, throwing the oven gloves and your apron onto the counter “That took way longer than it was meant to, because someone was eating the raw cookie dough!” You grumbled, washing the sticky residue of the cookie dough of your hands.

Ransom picked you up with ease, locking his lips with yours as he placed you on the counter. As he kissed you he began running his hands all across your body; slipping his hands up his sweater you were wearing to caress your tits, tweaking and twisting the pebbled nipples. He pushed his hardened cock against your dripping cunt as he deepened the kiss, tangling his tongue with yours. Watching as you turned into a whimper mess beneath his attention as he deprived you of oxygen. His kisses becoming more and more ravenous as your face becomes red, Ransom pulls away from allowing you to breathe. You grabbed at Ransom trying to pull him back in for more kisses, your mouth feeling so empty without him. But Ransom eased down on to his knees, tipping his head back as he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter by your calves. “All this baking has made me hungry, Puppy, but I’m sure you can fix that. Can’t you, my precious little Pup?” Heat rises to your cheeks as a throb of heat pulses between your thighs, you squeeze them together trying to subtly gain some friction. He slowly trails his large hands from your calves up to your knees, rubbing circles into them with the pads of his thumbs before he parts your legs. You loved it when ransom manhandled you, the way he took control and dominated you; he made you wet without even touching your pussy.

Ransom massaged the wet spot form on your underwear grinning as he watched you bite back a moan. He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties, pulling them off and tucking them away in the back pocket of his dark blue jeans “You’re dripping for me.” He blew cold air against your clit, as if you were a hot meal he was trying to cool, the action sent a shiver up your spine making Ransom chuckle

“Stop teasing.” You pouted using one of your hands to tousle his hair playfully.

“I’m teasing? I think you’re mistaken, Pup. You’ve been teasing me since the second I walked through the front door. Wearing my sweater, giving me those puppy eyes and expecting me to be able to focus on baking. I wanted to bend you over this counter and fuck your little brains out as soon as I laid eyes on you. This is simply payback.” Placing feather light touches with the tips of his fingers right next to your swollen lips.

You whined pushing your hips into his face “Please.” You begged “need you.”

“Can’t even form a full sentence. I haven’t even touched you yet and you can’t even think coherently. What are we going to do with you, my dumbly little Puppy?” He cooed, taking your sensitive nub into his scorching mouth, sucking on it gently and grazing the hood with his bottom teeth. You threw your head back, narrowly missing the corner of the cabinet. He released your clit, swiping his tongue through your creamy slit; before sucking on each of your puffy lips giving soft nibbles to each, your moans rising in pitch with every soft touch and lick. He slipped two fingers inside you, scissoring them inside you whilst he drew his initials on your clit with his tongue with slow swipes. You could barely focus on anything, as his fingers rubbed against the spongy part inside you that made your moan like a pornstar. Ransom moved from your clit to slurp the slick running out of you “Such a messy Puppy. You’re gonna get the counter all dirty with your sweet nectar.” You couldn’t handle his teasing normally, but especially not while he was devouring you like a starved man. You attempted to pull your hips away as you felt the heat within you growing, but his hold on your thighs stiffened; becoming almost bruising as he lapped and sucked at your quivering hole, slipping his tongue in to accompany his fingers before returning to your throbbing clit. The pace of his tongues flicking quickened, he could tell you were near your end and he was going to do everything in his power to hear you scream for him “Cum. Cum on my face, Puppy. Soak me.” He demanded, suckling your clit as your body spasmed, making your hips rise up off the counter as you came on his fingers. Your sopping pussy constricting around him like a viper as he continued to piston his fingers into you through your orgasm; attacking the sensitive part within you making you scream. You could feel another orgasm approaching as he drew tight circles on your pulsating pearl.

“Ransom! Please stop, it hurts. Feels too good.” You sobbed your thighs, quivering in his powerful grasp. Drool leaking from the corner of your mouth as you let out pathetic overstimulated whines. Another wave of pleasure crashed through your body, making you let out sounds you didn’t think you were capable of. If you knew what was going on you’d be embarrassed, but you were so lost in the pleasure that Ransom’s tongue was giving you that you couldn’t care less if the whole world heard you.

Ransom got to his feet, his eyes raking over you hungrily as he wiped the remainder of your juices that his tongue couldn’t reach with the back of his hand. He wanted to take a picture of you like this, your pretty face all destroyed for him accompanied by the vacant look behind your eyes. Scratch that he wanted to frame it. He cupped your cheek with his hand wiping the tears of ecstasy still staining your cheeks away. He slipped his thumb past your lips, practically growling as you began to suckle on the digit “We’ve still got a few minutes before they’re done baking, so how about we have a bit more fun, Puppy?”

Tag list: @petesey @cevansgurl @bval-1 @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @flamefoxxrecs @adoreyouusugar @sojuxxi @gryffindorqueensworld @aerangi @itwillgetbetter @taramaria @bean-is-reading

Monstertober Day 3:

The Scarecrow walks at midnight

Pairing: Scarecrow!Ari Levinson x Reader

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, serious Non con, death, mentions of blood, asphyxiation/choking, bruises (not the kinky kind), Beefy!Ari (6,8ft), size difference, held down, chasing, p in v

Nicknames: Song bird, birdie

Word count: 2.3k

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭🎀 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

AN: My apologies that this is a bit late, I had some health issues yesterday which really messed up my whole day. I ended up changing it from Headless horseman!Bucky to Scarecrow!Ari, because I had such bad writers block when trying to write it. I hope y’all enjoy and like all the Goosebumps references ♥︎

You pull up to The Stanley's farm, you’d know the Stanley’s for a long time. Everyone in this town knew everyone, that’s how it always been. Which is why, when Natasha sent you texts saying to come find her in a corn maze. You knew this was where she was talking about and despite the fact that it was technically closed right now, you knew the Stanley’s wouldn’t mind. You hopped out of the warmth of your car and into the autumn night. You loved the countryside, but you hated the fact that there were no lights. You only had the stars and the moon to guide you as you stumbled across the rocky path towards the corn maze.

It wasn’t far, you could see the sign, but you could also see a foreboding wooden cross standing outside the corn maze that you’d never seen before. You stopped in front of the wooden cross, running your fingers across the red paint chipping off the splintering wood. There’s nails with shreds of fabric still tangled around the posts; there was something hung up here at some point, a scarecrow more likely than not “The shity neighbourhood kids probably ripped it off” you huff “Always ruining everything, they threw paint in the plaza fountain only last week.” You drag your hand to the apex of the cross, it’s warm. Peculiar. You brush it off, despite your uncertainty, and look back at the text Natasha sent you.

I’m in the corn maze

Bet you can’t find me, scaredy-cat 👻🐈‍⬛

She had some nerve calling you a scaredy-cat, who in their right mind wouldn’t be scared to go alone into a bloody corn maze at midnight. It was pitch black, aside from the piercing light of the moon that parted the slate clouds that drifted across the inky, velvet blanket of the sky.

You stand infront of the en tree dance of the corn maze. It’s marked by an ornate metal sign, with chipping discoloured paint ‘Stanley’s Corn Maze’ it said in a faded orange paint. It felt like the beginning of a horror movie. Two friends enter a corn maze at night, now you just need a killer.

“Natashaaaaa” you sing “where are youuuuuu?” You’d been walking for what felt like forever, your phone was only on 4%. Nerves were starting to prickle in your belly “Come on I can’t find you! I give up okay so let’s go! I wanna watch a scary movie. Oooo maybe we can watch ‘Stay out of the Basement’ that’s meant to be good.” You hear the rustling of the dying corn leaves being pushed aside behind you, but still no reply from Natasha “Nat, if you’re trying to scare me it ain’t gonna work. I can hear you.” You spin around on your heel. It was not Natasha.

It was a man, he looked to be well over six foot tall. From where you were standing he was an Adonis; a halo of blonde hair and bulging muscle. He stepped closer, you remained still.

In the moon's pale light you could see the dirty blonde hair, tousled and scruffy with loose bits of hay and dirt tangled in his locks. He had a thick beard and moustache, but the glow from the moon still allowed you to see his prominent cheekbones. His firm chest strained against the thin fabric of his red, plaid shirt. You could see the contour of his torso and arms, he was covered in muscle and towering over you. As he stepped closer, further into the moonlight, you could see his face clearer; there were two messy stitches on either side of his mouth, clotted blood surrounding the punctures and strands of hay protruding from his skin. As he neared closer. You stumbled backwards. Fresh blood coated his thick, veiny arms all the way up to his sleeves rolled at his elbows, the cloth of his sleeves stained and dripping “Where are you going little bird? I want you to sing for me.” The stitched corners of his lips stretched into a smile as he lunged forward at you, his heavy body's ungraceful movements allowed you to dart past him into the thicket of corn. Your hands guarded your face defensively as you dashed through the corn, the brown, aged husks and leaves whipping at your exposed skin “Birdie! I’m gonna find you!” His bellowing voice pierced through the deafening sound of your blood rushing in your head.

You paused as your foot treads on something squishy, yet firm, you turn your gaze to the floor. Natasha. She’s beaten and bloody, clothes torn and her head appears to almost be severed from her shoulders “Nat…” you whimper, her eyes are still open. You hear the jostling of corn. You have no time to close them as you take off again, the bleak night air drowning you as you gulp it down like a fish. The burning tears dripping from your eyes burn your icy skin, you turn your head back to try to see him. He’s not there. You practically jump out of your skin as you hear a loud crack of thunder rumble around you, then cold drops of rain begin to fall. The drops that sprinkle across your skin send goosebumps across your skin, your hairs prickling to a point as you shiver.

You need to keep running, despite your exhaustion you find it within you to keep going. You can hear the corn rattling around you from every direction, you were so disorientated. As you jogged through the maze you reached down to your pocket to search for your dying phone, that’s when all hope drained from you. You’d dropped your fucking phone. The rain began to pick up, turning from a light dusting to harsh, thick droplets that fell with such speed that it hurt your skin. You came to a halt in a patch of newly formed mud, what were you meant to do? You felt doomed, you could no longer restrain the sobs that left you, lip wobbling as you choked on your sorrows.

One second you're standing, the next you’re tackled to the ground. Your shoulder collides with the sludgy earth and air catches in your lungs as you let out a choked yelp. You smash your hands into the Scarecrow's strong chest as you writhe against his fierce grip, he only needs one of his hands to overpower you and pin your hands above your head. You’re forced to look at him atop of you. His hair is glued to his forehead with sweat and the moonlight causes the thin sheen covering his skin to glitter like tiny diamonds. He bends closer to you, hot puffs of air from his heavy breathing suffocating you. He presses his face into the crook of your neck; the bristly hairs of his beard scratching against your neck as he licks at your neck, he shoved his nose into your hair and takes a long deep breathe in “Smell so good birdie, better than other woman. Ari’s gonna give you pleasure now.” You thrash against him kicking at him, he ignores it and bends one of your legs over his shoulder, “Lie still, Song bird, gonna make you feel so nice.” He grunts as you kick at his face, catches your ankle in his free hand and squeezes. His grip strength is inhuman. You shriek as you feel your bones creaking against the pressure he applies, your bones threaten to snap.

“Stop! Stop! I won’t kick you please!” You scream, the agony sending shocks across your nerves and to your brain, a dull ache lingering in your skull. He lets go of your ankle and lands a powerful punch to your gut, grit your teeth and grunt “Oof!” acidic sickness rising in your throat, you swallow it.

“Other girl wouldn’t stop screaming. Squeezed her too hard. Always squeeze too hard, it was an accident. Not gonna squeeze as hard with you, Birdie, like you, like your voice, like your scent. Want you alive.” His large hand tears your shorts and panties with one pull, the display petrified you but it also made your pussy drip. He ran two fingers through your fold, collecting some of your slick and bringing it to his mouth. He sucked his fingers clean of your cream, releasing his fingers with a loud pop “Taste so good. Need to fuck you.” Ari grumbled, undoing his jeans, releasing his member that slapped against his clothed stomach. It was long and ribbed with a thick purple vein running up the shaft and patch of pale blonde hair dusted his pelvis.

You moved your hips away from him. He hooks his calloused hand under your knee quickly and pulls you closer “No riggling, Birdie. Don’t wanna hurt you.” The fear freezes you in place and he takes the chance to thrust all the way inside you, smashing into your cervix causing you scream out and thrash as his dick crams uncomfortable inside you, he’s too big. You can feel the rubbed texture of his cock as your walls clamp harshly in an attempt to push him out. He pistons his hips without a care, unbothered by your body's feeble attempt at rejection. Your shrieks appear to fall upon death ears until he lifts you slightly by your wrists and then slams you back into the ground. Your brain rattles in your skull as your head hits the floor; a pounding pain throbs across the back of your head, and you look at him with a bewildered expression.

“No, Birdie, you’re meant to sing nicely. No screaming, or I’ll squeeze.” His scratchy knuckles brushes away the tears flowing down your cheeks. You nod and whimper, fighting the pain and letting out soft ‘oh’s and ‘ah’s as he continued his brutal pace, bending closer to you pushing your legs into you, angling your hips so he could thrust even deeper. Spearing you all the way to the hilt of his girthy length, you let out a guttural cry as he grunted and groaned in response to his own wild thrusts. Heat spread across your back as his pelvis rubbed against your clit “Tight.” He growled, pressing a kiss to your temple, he smelt strongly of hay and dirt, but underneath that strong scent of petrichor was a uniquely manly musk. Your pleasure was interrupted as his hand released your wrists, he slammed his fist into the ground, snarling as he thrusted. The hand holding your knee squeezed extremely tightly, you could feel bruises forming under his touch.

“Ow! Ari! Squeezing too tight!” You yowled, he was going to snap your knee. You dug your nails into the back of his neck, his pace slowed; his hips stuttering as he came to a stop entirely.

“Sorry, SongBird. Won’t squeeze anymore.” For a man…Scarecrow who was raping you he was being surprisingly considerate. He rubbed the pad of his thumb against your reddened cheeks soothingly before pulling out all the way to his tip before ramming back into you, hard enough for your body to slide around in the mud below you. Your lungs burn and your throat is raw. You bite back a scream when his bulbous tip collided with your cervix once again “Close. So close. Sing! Sing for me Birdie!” You whimper and let out an involuntary moan as his cock rubs the sweet spot within you. His barred teeth soften into a smile at your moans, his free hand comes to neck and he begins to squeeze. You remember Natasha, the way her head laid in a pool of blood. How you could barely see any remnants of her neck. You began to thrash once again, Ari ignored you, lost in his own pleasure. You could feel his cock twitching inside, in your mind you pleaded for him to come. For it to be over. His thrusts quickened even more, his hips bashing painfully into your ass. The sound of his balls slapping against your skin overpowering the crackle of thunder. He threw his head back and let out a full bodied groan, which resembled a roar as he came inside you. The ropes of his come were cold, just like his whole body-ice cold, the amount of his spend was unrelenting. He released your neck, you let out a series of cough thanking God for answering you as took deep breaths of air. You’d never been so grateful to be able to breathe.

Ari still hadn’t pulled out, he was still hard. Your pussy was rubbed raw from his pubic hair, and your clit ached painful from the force of his pelvis colliding with it. Then his thrusts continued. He wanted to go again. You clawed at him and he pinned you again “Bad Birdie, not done yet.” He murmured. You stared up at the moon as it mocked you, moving so freely through the sky. You curse the moon for letting him come alive. Your thoughts begin to fade as you just gaze up at the moving clouds heavy with more rain.

Resistance was futile. So you just laid there taking it. You close your eyes, your head was heavy from the adrenaline crash. You hoped sleep would take you, and it did.

The orange, pink tinge of sunset colours your vision as you open your eyes. Your ears are ringing, a piercing static reverberating in your skull. Your eyes sting and your throat is strained and scratchy. You push your hands beside you, they sink into the mud slightly as you sit up. A dull pain radiates throughout the apex of your thighs and legs, the bruises that litter them clear in the garish glow of the orange morning sun. You look around you, there’s hay scattered across the ground and beside you is the Scarecrow, face down in the mud your phone beneath his freakishly human hands. The baritone sound of his voice echoes in your mind as you pull your phone out and turn it on. 1% battery…Better call the right person.

Tag list: @alina02 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @cevansgurl @getwellsoontana @bval-1 @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @renster05 @flamefoxxrecs @savstranger @sojuxxi @cjand10 @sweetwrathoflilith @adoreyouusugar

Welcome to

Monstertober

ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ

It’s everyone’s favourite time of the year, Halloween season which means monster fucking time

This year I’ll be participating in Monstertober, but my own version that’s more spaced out so I have time to do what I need to do and get this out for you guys.

Everything in this series is Dark!, no fluff, gentleness or consent in sight. As as result of this READ THESE AT YOUR OWN RISK YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME. My blog is 18+ you have been warned.

Most of these fics constitute as: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

As they are uploaded links will be added

Tag list 🎀

The Lineup:

🎃Day 1 - 1st October

Werewolf!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Dub con, Beastiality, Dead dove: Do not eat, chasing, sex in a forest, scratching, biting, belly bulge, angst, near death, dacryphilia, bruises (not the kinky kind), begging (for him to stop), apologetic!bucky, beefy!bucky, lumberjack!bucky

🎃Day 2 - 5th October

Orc! Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: Non con→Dub con, Dead dove: Do not eat, insults/degrading language, forced breeding, forced impregnation, drastic size difference, belly bulge, blood mention, virgin!reader, hair pulling, cowgirl→mating press, dacryphilia, dark!bucky, threat of violence

🎃Day 3 - 12th October

Scarecrow!Ari Levinson x Reader

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, serious Non con, death, mentions of blood, asphyxiation/choking, bruises (not the kinky kind), Beefy!Ari (6,8ft), size difference, held down, chasing, p in v

🎃Day 4- 16th October

Vampire!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Non con→Dub con, near death, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, dacryphilia, marking/biting, bruises (not the kinky kind), scratching, choking, spiting, making you drink your own blood, utter filth

🎃Day 5 - 19th October

Mummy!Steve Rogers x Reader x Jackal!Bucky

Warnings: Dub con, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, asphyxiation/ choking, scratching, marking/biting, mentions of blood, threesome, Stucky x Reader

🎃 Intermission - 23rd October

Lloyd x Reader: Pumpkin carving Drabble

Warnings: knife play, mostly fluff, reader has sensitive ears, hand kink, scent kink, reader being a brat, marking/ hickeys/ biting, implied smut

🎃Day 6 - 26th October

Swamp monster!/Siren!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Non con, death, Dead dove: do not eat, dark!bucky, beefy!bucky, forced breeding, p in v, anal fingering, sex in a forest, sex near a pond, drowning, marking/biting, mentions of blood, scratching, choking, praise, delusional!Bucky, victim!reader

🎃 intermission - 29th October

Ransom Drysdale x Reader: Cookies Drabble

Warnings: cunnilingus, tooth rotting fluff, baking with Ransom, undertones of power imbalance, Ransom is a bit of a douche, innocent!reader, implied smut

🎃Day 7 - 30th October

Occultist!Stucky x Reader

Warnings: Non con!!!, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Death, reader is a sacrifice, knife play?, mentions of blood, public sex, voyeurism, humiliation, implied cult, mystery demon, choking, blood kink, Dark!Stucky, p in v, oral (male receiving) , spitting in readers mouth, dacryphilia, manipulation, betrayal of trust, psychological + emotional abuse

🎃Day 8 - 31st October

Incubus!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Initial Somnophilia, dub con, kind of rape, insults/degrading language, biting, scratching, marking, mentions of blood, womb tattoo/sigil, dumbification, aphrodisiac, vibrator, p in v, overstimulation, cunnilingus, demon summoning, beefy!bucky, condescending!Bucky, dark!bucky, praise, fluff

fyi to those who haven’t done so yet and would like to continue have most fics visible to you, make sure you switch your settings so that content with the “mature” community label isn’t blocked!

whether it’s tumblr enforcing these new community tag guidelines or someone spitefully adding them to fics, community tags have effected visibility immensely bc by default, tumblr blocks mature content.

Beg me for it

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: oral (male receiving), Oral-fixation, innocent!Steve Rogers, Virgin! Steve Rogers, experienced! Reader but also shy!reader, fem!reader, overstimulation, cock sitting, Cowgirl?, fem!dom, teasing, begging, praise, check-ins, aftercare + fluff

Word count: 2.5k

Brought to you by my brain after the first episode of She-Hulk and a long, steamy convo with my friend at 3am

The show had just finished, the same irritating tune of ‘A star Spangled man with a plan’ had finally died down and Steve had finished his preaching of how ‘by purchasing war bonds you too could do your part to stick it to the Fuhrer’ or whatever bullshit they convinced him would get him his own battalion. It made you sick how they openly exploited him, but it also made you question how naïve he truly was—because if they could convince him that he was truly aiding the war effort by being paraded around like a freakshow, then what could you also convince him to do.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the creaking of the curtain finally descending, once it finally reached the ground you let your fake toothy grin fall and relaxed your posture, relieved you sauntered to the back of the stage “Thank god that’s over.” You hear one of the girls call

“Yeah, I’m craving a smoke. You girls coming?”

They all follow behind the main blonde, but just before she fully exits the door to outside the theatre she turns on her heel “Y/N you coming?” She questions, allowing the rest of the girls to walk past her out the door.

“Oh no I’m fine for now, you lot can go I’m gonna stay here and rest.” You let out an awkward laugh, that is absolutely not what you’re going to do, it couldn’t be further from the truth. The moment you began considering how deep America’s sweethearts naivety truly went it caused ideas to rush through your mind of things you wanted to do to him, things that made heat rise all the way to the tips of your ears. You knew you’d never be able to do them to him but it wouldn’t stop you from enjoying yourself.

“Suit yourself I guess, it’s stuffy in here” she let out a disgruntled sound as Maggie pulled the blue, sequin covered collar from her neck rubbing at the scratched skin below it, “ I swear if this thing doesn’t stop itching me I’m going to fu- Mr Rogers hello.” Her whole demeanour shifted, she went from loud mouthed broad to the shy girl next door in seconds, you were almost impressed. Steve just gave her a nod and a wave and disappeared into his room with a red door and brass star drilled into it, you could tell it was for him because it was the biggest and most decorated room, us girls got a communal room to get ready in, one that had blue paint flaking off it to reveal the sludge green colour that the door used to be.

You sat on the stiff blue sofa, running your hand over the cheap material “this is gonna give me carpet burn on my thighs” you huffed shifting around in an attempt to get comfortable, your mind drifted back to Steve who was now alone in his room. Maybe it was time to attempt to assert dominance, do the opposite of what Maggie did; go from shy show girl to dominatrix and try to snag Steve for yourself. The thought of it made you impossibly embarrassed as you clenched around nothing, but it was now or never you were almost completely alone with him. You stood up quickly and practically ran over to the mirror, touching up your makeup and dousing yourself with perfume to ensure you smelt nice “you can do this. You’re gonna knock on his door and lure him in, it’s going to be great, amazing, even…Sexy.” Flattening down your red and white striped skirt, which was unbelievable short, you took one final deep breath and made your way out of the changing room, down the musty corridor littered with faded posters from previous shows that were slowly peeling from the dirty, smoke covered walls which tinged them a darker brown then they should have been. You could hear the producers in their own room talking, probably playing cards, which meant you had time to enjoy yourself.

You were now face to face with Steve’s deep wine red door, it was perfectly pristine more than likely it had been painted over recently, the bronze star was shined to perfection and had the words ‘TALENT’ in bold, block lettering. Hesitantly you lifted your knuckles to the door, rapping on the wood three times. You heard shuffling and the sound of someone tripping before the door opened, revealing Steve’s towering frame. You were looking at his chiselled chest, which you could easily make out from below the tight white wife beater. You slowly leaned your head back to look up at him and locked eyes with his azure ones that had fleeks of green and blue, they reminded you of sea foam, enchanting. “Hi Y/N, is something wrong?” His soothing modulated voice inquired, your eyes drifted down to his soft, full, pink lips. That’s when you knew you had to do it.

“Can I come in, to talk to you?” You questioned in a husky tone, fluttering your eyelashes against your cheeks and looking up to him as innocently as you could muster, attempting to make yourself seem small and fragile.

“Of course, it’s no problem.” a pinkish tint dusted his cheeks and his toned arm found its way behind his head rubbing at his neck in a soothing motion. He let you pass him and your head flitted around the room, bugged eyed. His room was massive and painted crimson, with a red velvet couch facing the wall to ceiling vanity mirrors, that had a cushioned mahogany chair tucked under the floating table; that mirror was definitely going to be used. You seated yourself on his couch, allowing yourself to sink into the plush cushions and patted the area next to you, Steve strode towards you and sat right where you had instructed. The pinkish tint that had been dusting his cheeks early had made its way to his neck and ears and was deepening to a scarlet “so what did you want to…talk about?” He stuttered unable to look at you, you extended your arm and brushed a hand up and down his forearm leaning towards him. His body turned rigid from your touch.

“Look at me Stevie.” You ordered, allowing a smile to tug at your lips, pressing your arm harder into your chest to make your cleavage more prominent “I want you to look at me, please.” His head turned slowly and he crooned his neck down to look at you, a questioning look in his gaze “I need you. Inside me.” He shuffled away till his hips reached the arm of the soaf, so you did the same, except you only stopped once you were practically sat on his meaty thighs

“We can’t do that Y/N, I can’t..” you lifted your eyes to peer into his, moving your hand from his muscular forearm to his jaw that clenched under your touch, his face was scalding, his embarrassment apparent. This was intoxicating.

You brought your other hand to his other cheek and pulled his face towards you, he could have resisted but he was obedient, how useful.

“Why can’t you Stevie? Are you perhaps a virgin?” His tongue jutted out of his mouth and licked his plump lips nervously “You are! Aren’t you!” You gasped in a falsely scandalised voice, you weren’t surprised in the slightest but you wanted his embarrassment to grow and fester, you wanted him to be putty beneath you.

“I haven’t had time…I’m sorry I can’t.” He shifted below you, turning his face

“I can help you. I can be your first, let me pop your cherry, my sweet soldier.” You whispered seductively in his ear caressing the shell of his ear with your nose, slipping one of your hands from one of his cheeks down to his clothed crotch, your hand caressing the area through his washed blue denim Levi’s. A tent began to form “You’re rearing to go down here.” You climbed further on to his lap till you were sat on his growing erection, the blonde tried in vain to bite back a moan. You ground down into his lap determined to hear that sweet thigh clenching sound again, you moaned out his name rubbing your head into his neck, nipping at his bobbing Adam’s apple.

“Please let’s do it.”

“Do what Stevie? You have to say it, tell me what you want, beg me for it.” You breathe

“Fuck me. Please ah.” he begged letting out an uncharacteristically high pitched moan as you began to undo his jeans, you slid off his lap taking his trousers and boxers with you. Allowing his sizable member to spring free, the tip was red and angry, leaking pre-cum and large blue, violet veins pulsated beneath his thin pale skin. You salivated at the sight, you wanted nothing more than to taste the hot salty taste of his release trickle down your throat, you wanted your mouth to be filled with him “What are doing?” He questioned in an almost breathless tone, which was cut off by a grunt as you licked a stripe from his twitching balls to his sensitive tip

“Just you wait and see my little virgin, I’m going to spoil you rotten.” You drew circles with your tongue and popped it in your mouth, giving it a suck before opening your throat and taking him in. You watched as his hand flew to his sides; gripping the velvet of the couch till his knuckles turned white, a strained sob escaping his lips as his head flew back hitting the wall, you slowly inched his cock further into your mouth, a moan from you throat vibrating around his cock, he was big, almost too big for your mouth. Your jaw creaked uncomfortably as you almost reached the base, you could feel his full length tickling your throat as it pulsated. Your nose was buried in his pelvis and you instinctively collected spit with your hand and began to massage his balls, you quickly came up releasing his dick with a pop “pull my hair.” You grabbed his hands and brought them to the base of your skull “use me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He whined, you grinned deviously

“You can’t hurt me, you won’t want to because I’ll make sure you apologise on your knees.” His large calloused hands wrapped around strands of your hair and forced you down to his dick and you began to suck, his moans started up again and you hollowed your cheeks to suck him for all he’s worth. You rocked back and forth on your foot, allowing for your clit to feel reprieve from the pleasurable tingling dancing in your womb. The savoury taste of cum began to dance on your tongue and that’s when you grabbed his wrists and forcibly removed yourself from him

“I was gonna…Where are you going?” He asked deliriously as you stood up, your small palm rubbing over his leaking slit, you pressed a finger to his soft lips

“It’s time for you to become a man, I’m gonna send you to heaven and back Captain virgin.” You took your seat back on his lap, but this time you sat on your knees and allowed his tip to slip back a forth through your velvety folds you keened as you rubbed it against your engorged, sensitive bud “I’m waiting Stevie, beg for me, beg like you’ve never begged before.” You demanded as you peeled off his wife beater and threw it to a miscellaneous corner, you stroked your hands up and down his sculpted chest which glimmered with sweat, you relished in his manly scent.

“Please put it in, please I’m begging you. I need to cum it hurts.” You looked down at his face his eyes were red and glassy and his bottom lip was clasped between his teeth, you massaged his face lovingly as you slipped him inside you slowly. You threw your head back and clasped his broad shoulders with your hands, your mouth going slack as the pleasurable burn of his length radiated through your hips causing your orgasm to build even further. One of Steve’s bulky arms found its way around your waist keeping you from falling, whilst the other encompassed your cheek pushing some of your hair out of your eyes “Feels good, keep going please.” You collected your self and nodded Steve’s whole length sheathing inside you, you nestled your head below his chin

“You okay?” You whispered, you received a nod in response “Good because now I’m going to destroy you.” Steve let out a low chuckle and you began to bounce your hips, slamming yourself up and down relentlessly

“Someone’s going to hear us.” Steve choked, trying to suppress his moans and grunts as your walls fluttered around him.

“Let them hear, I want them to hear me make you mine. I’m going to be your first and last you’re mine, moan for me. Let them hear how good I make you feel.”

“I’m gonna cum” he squeaked, tightening his grip on your waist so hard that it was absolutely going to bruise. You stopped your movements and planted yourself on his lap.

“No, please move. So close, I was gonna cum. Please.” his voice was thick with need, desperate. He whined attempting to move you up and down

“We cum together, you’ll wait for me, my good boy, my good little virgin.” You swiped your thumb sensually over his biceps. His cock twitched inside you “Do you like being my good boy Captain?” You cooed as Steve buried his head into the lapel of your outfit

“Take this off. I want to see you please.” You complied, throwing the scratchy uniform towards where you had thrown Steve’s wife beater. His strong hand briefly glided over your tits giving them a squeeze and teasing the nipples before falling back to their original place.

“Look in the mirror Stevie, look where we’re joined.” You began to move again “touch my clit, you know what that is right?” You chuckled and Steve scoffed, rubbing your clit almost immediately, making you melt against him “Well, you’re better than most men then.” You moaned, moving your hips desperately “Use me Steve!” You beckoned he grabbed your hips with his other hand feverishly moving you up and down his length “gonna cum! Cum with me! Cum my good boy!” You keened grinding on his dick, Steve groaned and whined, his cock throbbed, you gripped at his muscular arms desperately and you were finally pushed over the edge, you bashed your head into Steve’s shoulder, digging your nails into his back leaving red half moons in their wake you felt Steve’s hot release flow into you, he bucked his hips desperately and you could feel it leak out of you into his lap. You ran your hands through his cropped hair and kissed his jaw tenderly “You good Steve?” You questioned massaging his scalp gently

“That was amazing, thank you.” He murmured, stroking your thigh with his warm pal. He turned his head and pushed back your hair kissing your forehead.

“Thank you for letting me be your first.” Your lips meet for the first time in a lazy, yet passionate kiss and you both stare into each other's eyes “let’s lay together for a bit before we get cleaned up.” Steve hummed in agreement, holding you securely to his chest before laying on his back, allowing you to rest your head on his buff chest and listen to his heart that was thumping loudly against his ribs, your eyelids became heavy and you permitted yourself to drift off in the security and heat of the supersoldiers embrace.